A Game of Masks
by shadowsilv3r
Summary: Inquisition agents Anais Bellerose and Aniel have been sent on a covert mission: to once again partake in the deadly Grand Game of Orlais to uncover a secret agent of the Elder One and end his life. But in Orlais, where extravagance is matched only by cunning brutality, it will take everything these two have just to survive. (Companion piece of Agents of the Inquisition)


**Prologue to the side-project of Agents of the Inquisition, It would be recommended that you read that story at least to chapter 31 titled: Aftermath Part 3 to understand the situation and the hints of past events.**

 **Prologue:**

Aniel stood within a vast hall of wood and ivory. With pillars stretching to a roof several stories above his head, the sheer size and beauty of this hall put the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux to shame. But it was a faded beauty. For the stained glass windows were shattered, the roof mostly collapsed, overgrown vines covered the pillars and crows nested in the rafters, cawing a morbid song that brought a sense of dread to the beautiful place.

Soon enough the elf walked towards the far end of the great decrepit hall to stand before an equally impressive, yet tragic, sight.

At the far end of the hall the ground was made of what looked like the top of a tree stump, with the tree's age lines forming an impressive pattern. At the edge of the pattern was a series of nine stairs made of tree roots, and though the roots formed the stairs, they weren't carved, but rather grown to overlap each other as a series of steps, to give it a more natural look. The nine stairs formed a crescent side by side as they ascended to each their own throne.

Aniel looked at each throne, counting nine in total, all where impressive structures of wood, ivory, and even lyrium crystal. But he noticed something off about the thrones. Each one was vacant and seemed to have collected dust and cobwebs, the one on the right end had crumbled into a pile of burnt wood, snapped ivory, and dead lyrium. While the one in the middle, was covered in blood.

" _Vir sumeil, el theneras him halam,"_ Aniel turned his gaze to find a figure dressed in a worn, hooded frock sitting in the throne second to the left from the middle, "Fear not Da'len, it will happen soon,"

"Who are you?" Aniel questioned.

"Everything you lost," the figure spoke…

V

 _The Guiding Wind, Waking Sea, autumn of 9:42 Dragon_

"The dream again?" was the first words Aniel heard upon rejoining the physical realm. The elven bard simply looked at his partner Anais and nodded solemnly. He then stood up and started splashing some water on his face from a nearby basin.

"You have it too?" Aniel asked the elven assassin, who repeated the nodding gesture.

"I spoke with some of the elves on board, though reluctant to say so, they admit having similar dreams too," Anais said in an uncharacteristically worried tone, "What do you think it means?"

"Do I look like an expert on dreams?" Aniel said as he dried his face with a random cloth by the water basin, "Once we make it back to Skyhold you can ask that fade expert in the Inquisitor's inner circle if you're so curious,"

"You say that as though you aren't curious about the dreams yourself?" The assassin pointed out, "Do you not wish to know the meaning of them?"

"They're just dreams Anais," Aniel said as he returned to his cot and got back in it.

"Yea, Dreams that every other elf we've encountered claims to have had recently as well," Anais pointed out, "I don't recall that being normal,"

"Just focus on the mission at hand," Aniel insisted.

"We're on a cargo ship, we can think about the mission once we actually reached Val Royeaux," Anais pointed out.

"So you'd rather talk about each other's dreams?" Aniel questioned as he rolled over in his cot to see a mischievous smirk on the woman's face.

"Actually, I'd rather talk about you and Hatse,"

Thoughts about Aniel's confessing to Hatse about him being a mage sprung to mind. Worried that the mischievous elf overheard them on the ramparts that night, he safely asked, "What about us?"

"Come on, don't tell me you didn't feel a connection between you two?" Anais questioned with a jesting glint in her eyes.

"If you mean her obnoxious attitude rubbing against my sanity, then yes, I did feel a connection,"

"You're no fun," Anais said in a pout as she stared at the wooden ceiling, nothing but the creaking of the Guiding Wind's structure and the splashing of the waves filling the silence.


End file.
